And in My Heart, I See
by itslivinginallofus
Summary: SaraxCatherine, CatherinexSara. Sara and Catherine realize they're not so different after all. I wrote this story a few years ago when I just started watching CSI, so it's already complete. Sara's POV. Review how you'd like, just don't gay bash! Thanks!
1. Right All Along

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own CSI or any of its components.**

And that's when I knew it was true. I was right all along, which is a first to begin with. Of all the times I've been completely off-base, the one time I actually know what's best for me is concerning the one thing that's completely unattainable. Part of me is sure that I've known all along where I stand, but out of hesitation to accept the truth, I've just convinced myself otherwise. But now - after today, this moment - I can't even fool myself anymore, which has grown to be one of my finest talents.

I can't even remotely find the words to describe the wrenching pain that surges through my stomach and the sting my eyes feel when they sudden fill with forbidden tears. I quickly dry my eyes as I realize that I'm standing in the middle of the hallway. Even though it's nearing the end of my shift, the last thing I need is for Grissom to interrogate me about my emotions and to startle Catherine out of her apparent oblivion. She must really be out of it to not only be crying at work, but with her office door open enough for anyone to look in and see.

After drying any evidence of tears from my eyes, I take a deep breath and spend the next few minutes contemplating whether or not this is really the wise thing to do. I know that Catherine and I have reached a point of more or less civility, but I would be exaggerating to say that I'm one of her favorite people. I've always thought that the key to our friendship, or lack thereof, is communication, and the fact that we haven't talked about things that have for quite some time needed to be discussed has put up a road block between the two of us. So, I guess if I walk away right now instead of being brave and talking to her, then I'll only have myself to blame for not being able to achieve a relationship with Catherine like I've always desired. Plus, if I don't step in, then Warrick or Nick or someone else will, and I want that person to be me, even if Catherine doesn't.

I cool off my face with my palms and lift a somewhat trembling hand to quietly knock on Catherine's door. She nervously jumps from her desk and retreats to the corner, frantically wiping her tear-streaked cheeks as if she thought it would erase what I just saw.

"Uh, Sara, hi. Come on in," she says, trying to remain casual. Even if I hadn't seen her crying, I wouldn't have been able to miss the pain etched clearly in her breathtaking blue eyes.

I spend a moment trying to think of an excuse for why I came in there, but I decided that the truth would probably be the best foot to start off on. "Are you okay?" I ask, surprised that I have a voice at all.

"What do you mean? Of course I'm okay?" Catherine says, and it pains me once again to see her fake smile as opposed to a natural one.

I feel tears begin to form behind my eyes again, but I blink them back. I know Catherine doesn't think the world of me, but she can't think I'm this stupid, can she? "Catherine," I say softly yet strongly all at once, assuring her that we both know the state she was just in moments ago.

She looks up at me from across the room, her eyes conveying the message that she doesn't know why she feels safe with me, but she does - right before she starts to cry again, this time harder than before. All I can hear is sharp intakes of air behind the hands that guard her face, and I slowly move closer to her side of the room, sitting on the edge of her desk while she stays pressed up against the wall.

"Talk to me," I urge her, extending a hand to touch her shoulder, and then making a face at my own surprise with myself. When did I all of a sudden become so brave? It was crazy to me how Catherine could manage to make me feel strong and weak simultaneously.

Breathing harshly, she says almost all at once, "I screwed up the last 3 cases, Lindsey's been acting distant, I've been feeling over-emotional and depressed at random intervals, and it just seems like everything is falling apart."

I inhale deeply and move even closer to her, moving a strand of hair that is sticking to her cheek out of the way. Before I can say another word, Warrick peeks his head around the door that I thought I had closed. Before anyone panics, I grab a tissue from the desk and put it up against Catherine's left eye.

"I tried to warn you that you were holding that pen a little too close to your face," I blurt out, barely being able to believe that I used that sorry of an excuse. Catherine even raises her eyebrows and almost smiles at how flushed I've become.

Miraculously, Warrick somehow buys my pathetic excuse and says, "I'll go get you some ice," before exiting the office.

She and I share a shy smile, and I know she is going to thank me before she says it. "Thanks for covering," she says, beginning to loosen up and move away from the corner. I turn my body to face her to where she moves. In a few minutes, I had already broken a boundary that before was so unbreakable between Catherine and I. I decide to take this newfound bravery and try my luck once more.

"So, shift's just about over. Do you want to maybe grab some coffee and talk about things?"

For a moment, she looks like she is going to make my week and say yes. But then she hesitates. "Uh, that's probably not the best idea, Sara," she begins, "I should go home and spend some time with Lindsey and just take it easy for the night."

I nod and try to make it look like my heart didn't just shatter in the blink of an eye. "That's okay, I understand. Maybe some other time then."

Catherine softly smiles, the look on her face suggesting that part of her wants to take me up on my offer. But the reality of the matter is she didn't, and suddenly I need to go.

I nearly slam into Warrick on my way out of Catherine's office, not even pausing to say good bye. Yes, I definitely knew it was true – from the moment I saw Catherine Willows cry, I knew I loved her.


	2. Crossed the Line

Of course my car is on the empty light, of fucking course. I almost didn't notice it with my blurred vision. This is my 2nd time crying in the past 15 minutes, what am I, 12? I'm such a goddamn idiot. I should have figured that these past few years of keeping my mouth shut until I'm asked to open it was working. But no, I had to storm into Catherine's office like I could sweep her off her feet somehow. Save the day. What a joke.

Up until now, I've somehow been able to ignore the fact that Catherine means more to me than pretty much anyone I know. That every time I see her, I want to study everything about her. That whatever her emotions are, happy, sad, angry, proud, tired, I automatically feel the same way. It's natural for the human heart and mind to block out reality in order to protect itself. (Oh, Christ, I sound like Grissom). But now I've crossed the line of vulnerability, no turning back now. Now that I've admitted how much my heart cries out for Catherine's – been in her office, had her open up emotionally to me, and then been ultimately rejected – I can't just pretend it never happened.

I haven't felt this stupid in a long time. I mean, I know I have my off days, but this was just plain old dumb. I'm trying to figure out, in retrospect, what I seriously thought would happen. Catherine had never shown any interest in getting to know me before, and I, physically, had never returned the favor, either. Did I think that everything from our past of not being friends (or being enemies as it felt at times) was going to disappear because I suddenly revealed myself as having a heart? There's no way I shouldn't have foreseen Catherine's response, not only because of the dynamic between she and I, but also because of Catherine's instinctive need to be impervious at all times. I know that crying must be a big deal to her and something she doesn't like to share with anyone, especially me.

Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me. Right as I'm kicking myself for being stupid, my car stalls out to a stop. I must have missed any chance to reach a gas station before it was too late while I was wallowing in how pathetic I am. If I didn't want to rip my hair out before, I definitely do now as I put on my hazard lights and pull out my cell phone to call Triple A.

…BandofStarsThatIndicatesTimePassageHere…

I jam the key in my apartment door and slam it behind me as I arrive home an hour later than I was supposed to. Even though it's only almost 9:30, I know that all staying up will accomplish is giving me more of a headache than I already have. I start to make a pot of coffee, which before bed probably seems crazy, but I think I've come to rely on it more for a soothing feeling it gives me rather than a source of caffeine or energy. In the time it takes for it to brew, I change into pajamas and continue to internally beat myself up for what happened earlier on tonight. Right as I'm about to settle down with my coffee, my cell phone rings. What could Grissom possibly want now? I am so beyond off shift. I pick it up before looking at the Caller ID and speak "Sidle?" into the mouthpiece.

"Sara, it's Catherine," says the voice on the other line, startling me enough to spill my coffee. "You still up for that coffee?"


	3. Coffee

I'm tempted to pinch myself, but after spilling the hot coffee, I'm pretty sure that I'm awake.

"Coffee?" I ask her, thinking that somehow she was referring to the pot I just made. Yeah, you'd never know I was a Harvard grad.

"Um, yeah, at work you mentioned coffee and I wanted to know if the offer still stands," she says, as if she has no idea the power she possesses over me.

Suddenly I'm struggling to find my voice and stumbling over my words as if I need to say anything other than 'yes.' 'Uh, sure, that definitely still sounds doable," I say, squinting at what a loser I sound like. "So do you want to meet at the Starbucks by work?"

"I was actually thinking you could come here. Lindsey's in bed, but I still need to keep an eye on her," she says, nearly stopping my heart.

"There as in your house?" I ask. Oh my fricken God, why do I speak? Of course she means her house!

Catherine slightly laughs, but doesn't speak in a demanding tone. 'Yeah, my house, if that's okay."

If that's okay? That's more than okay. That's perfect! I was hoping to grab a way too expensive cup of coffee in an over-crowded café. But one-on-one in Catherine's house, just she and I? Okay, starting to sound like a preteen again. Part of me doesn't care. Part of me thinks I should respond before Catherine hangs up.

"Yeah, that's fine. Give me directions?"

…BandofStarsThatIndicatesTimePassageHere…

After about the 9th try, I'm starting to think that my hair isn't going to work pinned up like I'd hoped. I've pulled out one of my nicer outfits (anything with lace and fringes is fancy for me), making sure to coordinate the makeup and handbag (yes, believe it or not, I do own a handbag or two). On the 10th attempt to put my hair in a bun, I realize how ridiculous this is. Catherine and I are having coffee, not going on a date. I probably shouldn't scare her by bounding in her house in an outfit totally uncharacteristic of what she's used to. It looks like I'm already pretty good at scaring her off. But then again, maybe not. If I had scared her that much, she wouldn't have called me back, right/ This is my chance for redemption, and I'm not going to blow it this time.

Still not feeling quite satisfied with my hair, I know that I'll just have to suck it up and deal, because if I take any longer, Catherine will wonder what's happened to me. I spray myself quickly with my most expensive perfume and rush out the door.

…BandofStarsThatIndicatesTimePassageHere…

My stomach has been in knots the entire car ride, and now that I'm nearing Catherine's street, part of me wants to throw the car in reverse and drive home. My head keeps running through the possible outcomes of this visit, and most of them seem to be negative.

Now that I know how much impact Catherine's general demeanor has on me, I realize that I could be setting myself up for another breakdown like earlier. At this point, I think anything less than being with her to the romantic extent which I desire is going to be practically torturous for me, and that being said, I also realize the slim likelihood of a romantic situation actually occurring between the two of us. However, more than anything I realize that for one reason or another, Catherine needs a friend right now, and being in her life in some way is better than in no way at all.

I try my best to clear my head as I ring the doorbell, immediately regretting that move out of fear of waking Lindsey, but I figure if I wasn't supposed to, Catherine would have told me so. I need to stop freaking out.

After what seems like an eternity, Catherine answers the door, a warm and welcoming smile on her face. "Sara, thanks for coming. Come on in," she says stepping aside. I already feel a lot better when I notice that she, too, has changed out of her work clothe, and in fact, is wearing something nicer than usual when on shift.

Once inside her house, which I can tell she decorated herself, I feel like I've lost all motor skills, not knowing how to move or where to go. Luckily she directs me to sit down on the couch, or else I probably would have stood there all night.

As I lean back to study the coziness of her house, she emerges from the kitchen with two coffee cups in hand. She sets mine down before me.

"Okay, light with cream and 3 Sweet 'N Low, right?" she asks.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I just remembered from a while back, I guess," she says, and I could swear she's trying to hide a blush.

I can't help smiling her way as I see how she looks even more stunning than at work, which I was sure was impossible.

She takes a deep breath as she daintily sips at her coffee and begins with an apology. "First of all, I'm sorry for my little emotional outburst at work. It was unprofessional and immature of me, and I didn't mean to offend you when I rejected your coffee offer. I just needed a little space, and I should have put it that way."

First I smile at how if what she had was an emotional outburst, mine must have been an explosion. Second, I want to reassure her that nothing was wrong with the way she acted earlier. "Catherine, you have nothing to apologize for, and I mean that. It seems like you associate emotions with weakness, and I don't think that's true. Emotions are healthy and necessary and if you don't express them every once in a while, then it all just gets bottled inside of you, and you'll feel trapped. It's okay to be scared and it's okay to cry," I say, both of us looking a little surprised at the random psychologist that has seemed to take over my words.

However, Catherine stares at me so deeply that my heart speeds up. "That's the first time someone's told me that in a while," she begins. "I mean, usually it's just the opposite. I'm reminded that I need to not get attached to people, that I need to be strong on behalf of the LVPD and for my daughter, that I can't waste the time getting emotionally involved with things and people that could distract me from getting work done. I guess it does all accumulate and I just haven't really noticed it," she pauses, and then speaks with the most sincerity I've ever heard from her, "I'm really lucky to have you to turn to now that things have piled up a little too much."

I've never wanted to hold and kiss her as much as I do right now as she not only taps into the emotions I've always known were there, but that she considers herself lucky to have me as a confidant. I restrain myself to the best of my ability and smile at her instead. "No need to thank me. Emotions just come easy to me being a huge sap and all," I say, having a slight laugh at my own expense.

"Well, how have you channeled yourself to reflect whatever it is you feel without reservation?" she asks with genuine interest.

Before I respond, I take a moment to realize how truly amazing it is to be sitting in a room with the woman I love and be discussing things like feelings and lifestyles and general well-being. I don't know how this naturally fell into place, but I'd like to think that Catherine has at least considered a friendship with me in the past, or else this wouldn't be happening at the moment. "Well, I have certain limits, of course, but basically it's just putting things into perspective. When you evaluate the outcomes of long-term emotional distress in comparison to the occasional healthy release of stress or aggression, it all becomes apparent why it's so worth it." Whenever I feel like I'm on a roll explaining something, I get a dorky, nasal sound to my voice, that I know she's picked up on, but it's sweet how she doesn't laugh or comment, just smiles softly as if she's enjoying me. "But it's also not like I have an amazing reputation or self-esteem to protect, so I guess it comes pretty easy. I mean, I don't sell tickets to let people watch me cry, but I guess I figure if anyone sees me, I can't lose a status I don't have."

"Oh, come on, Sara," she says, smiling slightly, but her voice serious. "What's so bad about you?"

When she asks this, I almost spit out my coffee, and before I can control myself, I blurt out, "I thought you'd have a few reasons of your own on that list." Immediately I regret what I've said, especially when I see the look of hurt in her eyes that she does a lousy job disguising. "I'm sorry," I say instantly, yet sincerely.

"No, you're right," she says, definitely reddening this time. "It would be an understatement to say that I've been less than gracious to you, and I'm sorry."

I can't help but forgive her on the spot the moment those wide blue eyes slightly mist up and meet mine. But while I have her here and we're on the subject, I have to know why she's shunned me away if she seems to think that I'm a decent person. I subconsciously move closer and stare at her intensely. "I guess I just don't understand why it's taken us this long to have a decent conversation. I've truly wanted to be apart of your life for a long time now, but -" and I pause, trying to phrase this tactfully, "it's been difficult."

"I know, Sara, and I really am sorry about that. We've had our issues, and emotions have run high, and again, we both know how I am with emotions. Part of me has felt scared to get close to you, and I realize that I didn't consider your feelings as much as I should have. But I can't change the past, so I guess all there is to move forward." Catherine's words and facial expressions are personal, sincere, and 100 captivating. Even though I already loved the rough and tough Catherine that I know at work, this is a side of her that I've never seen and it's one that I adore.

"Well, needless to say, you're forgiven. A toast to a new beginning?" I ask, using beginning instead of friendship out of my own wishful thinking.

She smiles that smile that melts my heart and knocks her mug against mine. "Cheers. Let me get us some more coffee."

…BandofStarsThatIndicatesTimePassageHere…

I'm not really sure how 2 hours have passed since I arrived. We've covered so many topics, from scarring experiences of the past, to embarrassing moments and funny stories. It seems that every time Catherine leaves the room and then returns, she sits closer on the couch to me. But I'm probably just imagining that. I'm having trouble trying to pinpoint the way I feel about this all. I'm excited at this new and different experience, yet everything somehow feels so relaxed and familiar all at once. I haven't had this wonderful a night for as long as I can remember.

Suddenly, our conversation is interrupted by a teary-eyed and pallid Lindsey, who enters the living room from upstairs, obviously upset.

"Lindsey, it's late, why aren't you in bed?" Catherine asks, sitting up so she is eye level with her daughter.

Lindsey's voice is small and choked up when she says, "I had a bad dream."

I'm almost brought to tears myself when I see the compassion that Catherine emotes through her eyes as she pulls her child close to her in a hug. As ridiculous as it is and sounds, part of me is jealous of this little girl. I can only imagine what it must be like to be the #1 person in Catherine Willows' life.

"Shh, Sweetheart, it's okay, it was just a dream," Catherine assures Lindsey. "Here, you sit down on the couch next to Sara, and I'll go make you some warm milk. Then we'll get you back to bed."

"I don't want to go back to sleep, I'm scared," Lindsey says, and both Catherine and I can tell that she's more shaken up than the average kid after a bad dream.

"Honey, everything's going to be okay, I promise. I'll be right back," Catherine says, disappearing into the kitchen.

Suddenly I feel a little stuck. I want to say something, but Lindsey just stares at her feet. I'm not even sure if she remembers meeting me. I don't know why she would. Looking at her at this moment, she reminds me so much of Catherine earlier that day in her office. They have the same eyes, and even though I can't tell right now, I know they have the same smile.

Something compels me to somehow lift her spirits. I move in a little closer, startling her a bit. "Lindsey, do you know what I do when I have a bad dream?"

Lindsey looks up at me, and I'm afraid of her being unresponsive. "Stay awake so that you don't have the dream again?"

I smile at both the fact that she wants to hear what I have to say and at her answer. "No. Here, I'll show you. Close your eyes," I begin, and I swear I almost jump when Lindsey slips her hand into mine before closing her eyes. "Now, what are some things that you really like?"

Lindsey pauses. "Animals. Going to the playground. My friends at school. Dancing with Mommy in the living room," she says, grinning from ear to ear. There's that smile. I can't help but smile along with her. "All right, now open your eyes. Now that you have good thoughts in your head, they'll stay with you when you go to sleep, and then your bad dream will go away."

Lindsey looks up to me and smiles and gives my hand an extra squeeze. "Thanks, Sara. I think I'm going to go back to bed now."

I only realize as Lindsey stands from the couch to head back upstairs that Catherine was standing at the door to the living room the whole time. My face immediately heats up and I hope she doesn't think I was moving in on any of her responsibilities.

"Lindsey, do you want your milk?" Catherine asks.

"No, thank you. Good night, Mom," Lindsey says, reaching up to hug Catherine.

Catherine hugs Lindsey tightly. "Good night, Sweetie. I love you."

"Love you, too," Lindsey says. She then turns to me and smiles that sweet little grin once more. "Good night, Sara."

"Sweet dreams, Lindsey. And if you get scared again, remember what we talked about," I say. She's precious.

I again feel nervous as I anticipate Catherine's reaction to my sudden bonding with her daughter. I decide to fill the silence with a compliment. "She's really adorable, and so personable, too."

Without any sort of warning, Catherine is on my side of the room and placing an unbelievably sensual kiss on my lips. I feel dizzy and warm and a rush of excitement in my stomach that I've never felt before in my life. While the kiss only lasts a second, I feel myself gripping onto her hips in order to keep myself steady. When Catherine breaks the kiss way too early, she gazes as deeply into my eyes as possible and softly says, "You are wonderful."

I try to speak… move… make noises. Nothing happens. Catherine half-smiles and goes to stand from the couch. "I'll get us some more coffee."

And that's when my brain registers that there's no way I'm going to let this moment pass. I grab her arm and pull her back down onto the couch, holding her face in my hands and kissing her deeply and passionately. Even though she kissed me first, part of me is surprised at and thrilled about the fact that she's letting me kiss her and kissing back. Her nails dig into my shoulders and drag them down my back, giving me goose bumps all over my upper body. I suck her lower lip into my mouth, and my heartbeat speeds up when I hear a slight moan trapped between us. She breaks the contact between us by sliding her tongue into my mouth, and the next thing I know, I lay down on my back, taking her with me and forgetting everything but the two of us and this moment that changed my life.


	4. Baby

Before I know it, it's the next morning, and I would be sure that last night was all a wonderful and unattainable dream if I didn't hear and feel Catherine's soft breath near my ear. She's laying on her side with an arm thrown lazily across my stomach, and there are no words to describe how ecstatic I am to be this close to her. I smile as I watch her sleep, knowing that this is one of the only times she can be completely at peace and without a care in the world - too bad it has to be when she's unconscious. For a moment, her brow furrows and she exhales just slightly, and I instinctively lean in to kiss her forehead, but then I stop. I've been in too many situations in the past where I've felt something, thought I had a connection with someone, and then the next morning they suddenly want nothing to do with me. Just a good time. Just a thoughtless moment. I know that if Catherine responds negatively, it will absolutely crush me. No doubt in my mind. Even though we didn't do anything more than kiss and cuddle, it still means more to me than any other 'relationship' I had.

And now I feel sick as I anxiously wait for her to wake up, fighting urges to leave unnoticed. Maybe if I leave a note saying there was an emergency, or just that I'll see her next shift, but I can't do that. I have to deal with whatever her reaction is, and moreover, I like the feeling of her hand on my stomach, and I'm not ready to lose that feeling.

I feel like I've been staring at the ceiling for about 10 minutes evaluating the outcomes when goose bumps cover my body once Catherine begins placing the most delicate of kisses on my neck. My whole body reels from feelings of relief and happiness all at once and I turn on my side to face her, smiling, now feeling free to run my fingers through her wavy hair.

"Hey, you," she says no louder than a whisper. "You looked a little troubled, are you okay?"

Before I concretely decide my emotions, I stare intently into her eyes, letting her know that I'm not taking this situation lightly. "Can I kiss you?" my voice barely asks.

Catherine laughs, then looks a bit confused when she sees that I'm honestly waiting for her permission. I think for this reason alone, she strokes my cheek with her hand before capturing my lips with her own and deepening it herself by the second until my body relaxes into hers. I sigh into her mouth when her tongue slides into mine and my headache finally starts to decrease until she breaks the kiss, pulling back to look at me with a serious and intense expression on her face. She takes one of my hands and wraps her fingers around mine. It is only then that I realize that my hands were shaking as I was touching her.

"Sara, you're trembling. And you're asking if you can kiss me after I made it clear last night that you're more than welcome to kiss me." I try my hardest not to smile too wide at her comment since she is trying to have such a serious moment and all, but inside, I'm beaming. But once I begin to answer the question, I remember how terrified I was just minutes ago, and the smile from both inside and outside fades.

"I was afraid that once you woke up you were going to regret last night," I said, my voice more feeble than before.

Catherine's face was puzzled and border lining frantic. "Why would you ever think that?" she asked. "Is that how you feel?"

I can feel my body temperature begin to rise. "No! Catherine, honestly, last night was the best night of my life."

"As it was one of the best of mine - up there with my wedding and the birth of my daughter. And I'm just supposed to not care the next morning?"

"It's not like that was what I was hoping to happen or even expecting to happen, it was just what I was afraid would happen," I said, trying to defend my thoughts of Catherine.

"But why? Why would you be afraid that would happen if you trusted me?" Catherine asked, her eyes wild and searching mine for an answer, almost as if she were afraid to lose me.

"Because every time I can remember, no matter how much someone appears to care about you, somehow that can all change overnight - literally. And since I've had a hard enough time getting you to say hello and good bye to me, I'm still not sure why you're wanting to kiss me and wanting to stay with me the next morning," I say, trying to explain honestly rather than sound accusatory.

"Sara, that is your problem right there. You need to start realizing when why matters and when it doesn't. Now, at the end of the day, does why I want to kiss you really matter, or is it the fact that I want to kiss you at all?"

I swallow hard. "More importantly, the latter, without question. But I guess they're both important to me," I say, looking away to try to hide the flash of hurt in my eyes. But she catches it.

My heart speeds up once again when she places her hand on mine and caresses it with her thumb. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be brash. I just want you to trust me."

I squeeze her hand back to let her know I mean this. "I do trust you. I'm not sure why, but I guess why doesn't matter, huh?"

She softly smiles and continues to hold my hand. "Well, while we're on the subject of why - in case you're curious - I knew there was something different about you from day one. You weren't scared by my bitchiness, and yet you dealt with it all at once. You just accepted it as a part of who I am, and not many people do that. Then it was the little things: your jokes, your smile, the look you get in your eyes when you know you're onto something. But do you know what the clincher was?"

"What?" I ask, not being able to fight my smile.

"Warrick and Nick were in the break room cracking jokes about how you called Hank 'baby' at a crime scene. I got pissed off and stormed out. That's when I realized that I wanted you to be calling me 'baby', not Hank," she says, giving me the first indication that she wants to have more than just a physical relationship with me.

I snuggle in closer to her than I already am and smile. "First of all, you're not a bitch. Sure, you can be a little moody sometimes, but who can't? Second of all, I'm completely flattered and touched. And third of all, do you want me to start on your list now?"

Catherine unexpectedly leans in to kiss me once more, letting me get a bit carried away as I run my tongue over her lips before sliding into her mouth and wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "I don't need to," she begins. "You're the most expressive kisser I've met. Your kiss tells me everything I need to know," she says with a devilish little smile as if she has me all figured out.

I can't fight the urge to slightly tickle her side, pleasantly surprised when she laughs. "Oh, really?" I ask, kissing her as deeply as possible. "And what's my kiss telling you now?"

She takes a deep breath, and we're laying so close that I feel her chest rise and fall against mine. "That you love me."

My eyes widen, wondering exactly how expressive of a kisser I can possibly be. But either way she's right, and now the question is whether or not I should tell her.

"Don't you?" she asks, letting me know that she wants my answer to be yes.

"Yes," I speak softly, "I do love you. I love the Catherine Willows that I see every day at work. You're a strong, tough, independent woman who commands the respect of everyone in the unit through earning your keep. You don't look at our job like a job, you look at it as an opportunity and a way of life. You have a roughness to you, but also unbelievable passion for the things and people you love. I've tuned into your passion since the moment we met, just understanding you completely. And now I realize outside of work that there's a whole different side of you that I haven't gotten to see. It's the part that I've always wanted to see, and still want to see. I want to get to know you, Catherine, very much. And I hope that in time, I can get a chance to love the rest of you, too."

She rests her head on my shoulder, breathing onto my skin and exhaling a sigh of relief and happiness. "I couldn't have said it better myself," she says, and even though I can't see her face, I can tell she's smiling. "So, starting a relationship sounds like something you want to do?"

I tilt her chin so that she is facing me and kiss her quickly, yet avidly. "Survey says…?"

Before she can answer, there's a knock on her door and Lindsey enters, giving us enough time to pull away from one another, but not to get out of bed.

"Mom, I have to go to dress rehearsal for my recital soon," she says, already dressed in her ballet outfit.

Catherine stands from the bed and walks towards Lindsey. "Well, good morning to you, too, Missy," she says playfully tugging on one of Lindsey's pigtail braids.

Lindsey giggles. "Good morning, Mom." She looks over to me on the bed. "Morning, Sara," she says, not seeming to find anything too peculiar in the fact that I'm laying in her mother's bed in the clothes I wore the previous night.

"Good morning, Lindsey. How'd you sleep last night?" I ask, referring to the one moment of connection I had with her.

"Good," she smiles, which makes me smile in turn.

Catherine smiles at us as well, and I can tell that she adores the way I'm already bonding with her little girl. "Lindsey, Sweetie, why don't you go get your coat on and we'll leave in a few minutes so we can have time to grab some breakfast on the way, okay?"

Lindsey happily agrees and leaves the bedroom. Catherine takes a moment to quickly brush through her hair and apply perfume, staying in the clothes she slept in. "We're going to grab some breakfast and then I'll run her to ballet, but I should only be gone about a half hour, 45 minutes tops. But, if you want to stick around, you can take a shower, help yourself to some coffee, and then when I get back we can talk some more. Sound good?"

"Definitely," I say, still laying in her bed and soaking up her scent from the sheets. "Don't have too much fun without me."

She walks towards me we with a coy smile and kisses me good bye, walking away quickly as to not get us carried away. "I won't. I'll see you soon," she says, walking away.

"Okay, Baby," I speak softly, causing her to turn around and face me, smiling widely because she knows that I threw that one in just for her.


End file.
